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Everything is an illusion, Gabriel knows that, has always known The room he sits in, the bed he’s perched on, even his clothes are an illusion, just another piece of the labyrinth built into his mind. Forged into his soul by Lucifer. The haze over his eyes is impenetrable, and despite the fact that he knows it’s fake he still submits with quirky approval as the forsaken crawls over him. Lucifer’s body blankets him in layers of warmth and weight, Gabriel can’t help but smile, how odd they must look in this phantom world conjured up by hate and filled with false emotion - Lucifer’s lips find his jaw, then his neck - these false caresses.
If Gabriel doesn’t move, oh how badly he wants to, he can forget the chains and simply close his eyes, shield out everything but the attention the apparition gives him, the shadowed husk of a body that has never been like this with him before.
“Luci,” he breathes, lungs fluttering and hitching as moist lips find his. Lucifer is sweet, like chocolate and those silly little penny candies he always loved when he was down there, Earth. The taste is short lived, as are the touches. Lucifer drags his fingers down Gabriel’s chest and there is no time to stop, no chance to recoil.
Smouldering eyes find his and by the time Gabriel has realized what’s happened it’s too late, the soft image of his damned brother vanishes, swept away by the sheer will of the real thing. This Lucifer isn’t kind, isn’t soft and when their mouths collide he most definitely doesn’t taste sweet. There’s a bile in the back of Gabriel’s throat as Lucifer bites and claims, leaving marks and drawing blood, blood that he wastes no time in lapping up.
“I’ll lose none of you,” he snarls into Gabriel’s ear, his face, cracked and sickly looking from the overuse of this vessel, breaks into a haunting smile. “Nothing of you will escape me.”
Gabriel jerks as Lucifer moves, fingers pushing deep within him, finding purchase in the farthest depths of his body. He utters a strangled cry that is choked off by Lucifer’s free hand. A large hand that curls around his neck, squeezing cruelly, silencing Gabriel. Lucifer works him open with uncaring twists of his wrist, fingers spreading and clawing and tearing him apart.
Tears cascade down the plains of Gabriel’s cheeks and when Lucifer finally releases him he gasps painfully, saliva pooling into his mouth, wetting his abused lips.
Lucifer grins when he pulls his hand free, blood glistening on his fingers, a testament to his harsh treatment. The damned shifts and Gabriel feels the hard, icy press of Lucifer’s body against him. He whimpers and Lucifer only looks down at him with a strange type of pity.
“Don’t cry, Gabe,” Lucifer says in a deceptively gentle tone of voice, his face smooth, eyes soft. Gabriel stares up at him in shock, there is no trace of the fallen from just seconds before. He feels Lucifer shift, feels the burning pressure of the other demanding entry. He reaches up, daring to press his palms to Lucifer, daring to refuse.
“Don’t cry, shhh,” Lucifer repeats himself then his face shatters and Gabriel tries to muffle his scream with his hands as Lucifer tears into his body. Above all the pain Gabriel feels Lucifer’s lips against his ear.
“Don’t cry, Gabriel,” Lucifer breathes once more, his voice teasing before he adds: “wasn’t this what you wanted?”